Undeserving
by rainydaysuedes
Summary: Alana Bloom visits Will Graham at the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane for the first time since his arrest. How did such a good man end up here?


Alana Bloom stalked down the high-security corridor at the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane, the heels of her shoes clicking quietly against the stone floor. It was just past five a.m., and all the inmates she passed were sound asleep on their beds. In spite of the time, she had a feeling that the man in the very last cell on the left would be awake. She knew he had trouble sleeping.

It was her first visit since his incarceration. She'd come early to ensure privacy, or as much privacy as she could get with what seemed like a thousand cameras staring down at her, red eyes blinking. It had never mattered before, but today was different. She wasn't here to analyze him, to pick apart the pieces of his mind. She was here to just talk to him. To be his friend.

It seemed like a lifetime ago that she'd thought she could ever be more than that to him, that she could ever be more than his friend. She couldn't deny that that was what she'd wanted at one point, and maybe that a part of her now still ached for that, but she'd been insane to think that it could ever work.

When she saw him, she realized insane was the wrong word to use in reference to herself. Highly innapropriate. She'd been optimistic, maybe, blinded by emotion, but far from insane. The shell of a man she was looking at now with frantic, bloodshot eyes that stared past her, matted, curly hair, fidgeting hands - that was insanity.

"_Will_," she whispered in disbelief, stepping closer to the bars that separated them. "I... Will, it's me."

Her voice seemed catch his attention. He blinked several times focused his gaze on her. He rubbed at his eyes. "Alana?"

She felt tears began to well up in her eyes but she willed them away. He couldn't see her cry. She should have been prepared for it to be this difficult.

"Yes," she said with a forced smile. "It's Alana."

He began to laugh then. Not his true laugh, but a harsh, bitter cackle that stung her ears. "This isn't real, is it? I keep seeing you, Dr. Bloom, but they tell me that you haven't stopped by. And why would you?"

"Will," she said cautiously. "Please. This is very real. I came because I wanted to talk to you. Because we're friends."

"I thought you'd had enough of me," he mumbled. "I've had enough of me."

"I'm not giving up on you," she told him. "I could never give up on you."

"You should," he said, leaning back against the wall. "They said I was guilty."

"Do _you_ say you're guilty?"

"I...I think you know the answer to that, Dr. Bloom."

She paused. So his claim of innocence hadn't changed. She'd be damned if another Dr. Chilton talked him into believing he was a killer.

But didn't she think he was just that?

"So," she said, pushing her conflicting opinions aside. "Coming from Alana, your _friend_, Alana, not Dr. Bloom- you've been seeing things, me, specifically. You're awake at an ungodly hour, so I can assume more nightmares? You're not dealing well, are you, Will?"

He rubbed at his eyes. "I've been better."

"When did you sleep last?"

"It doesn't matter, Alana-"

"_Will_."

He didn't look at her. "I don't know, three, four days ago? It's hard to keep track here."

"Do you want to try now?" she asked him, hoping he couldn't tell just how upset she was. She thought he might be better, that he'd be safe. Obviously that wasn't the case. His demons would follow him wherever he went. "I'll be right here. You'll be safe."

He smiled a little, but shook his head. "I appreciate the thought, but I'd rather not sleep."

"You have been having nightmares, then?"

"Nightmares? Not really. They're fairly simple dreams. I'm here in my cell, just as I am now, but he... he's always where you are, right by the bars. He stares at me."

"Who stares at you, Will?"

"I'm frozen," he continued, ignoring her, "and his eyes burn my skin and I know it's my fault. I know I didn't stop him."

"Are you talking about-"

"Dr. Lecter?" he asked. "Yes. He killed them, Alana."

"Will, I know you believe that, but I can assure you that Hannibal is-"

"I guess it's my fault anyway. He might have killed them but I couldn't catch him in time. Maybe I deserve to be here after all."

"Hannibal Lecter is not a murderer, Will, and I believe that what you did wasn't your fault-"

"Listen to me," he said, his voice filled with an urgency that hadn't been present before. "You can't be alone with him. Stay away from him as much as you can, without being too obvious. If he thinks you believe me he might try to hurt you. I don't know what I'd do if..." His voice trailed off. A few tears ran down Alana's cheeks, but she didn't care about appearances anymore.

"I know you think I killed them when I was unaware, that I can't recall ending human lives because of my sickness." He stood and took a few steps, soon standing just inches away from her on the other side of the bars. "I can't blame you, because that's the logical answer. But please, Alana, you have to believe me when I say that right _now_, I have never been more awake."

For someone who rarely shed a tear, she found herself crying for what felt like the hundredth time in the past month.

"You have to promise me you'll protect yourself. Jack can get you clearance to carry a gun. _Please_."

"Okay. I promise."

He frowned. "Why are you crying?"

She shook her head. "You're a good man, Will. You don't deserve this. This shouldn't have happened to you."

"But don't you think I killed them?" His voice was breaking, volatile. Her opinion meant everything to him.

"I don't think it matters," she whispered. "The Will Graham I know, the man who is standing in of front of me right now... I only wish my heart could be as good as his."

"I think you're overestimating me," he said softly.

"I know I'm not."

He said nothing, but studied her face. Hopefully he couldn't see just how deep her sadness was.

They were like that for a while, standing there, two gifted profilers unable to read each other.

After some time of simply studying Will's face, she checked her watch- she'd need to leave soon to make it to Quantico in time for her morning lecture.

"I better get going," she said, slowly stepping away from him. "I've missed you, Will."

"You haven't created hallucinations of me, though, have you?" He tried to make his voice light, but she knew what he was trying to say: he'd missed her more.

"I'll see you soon, okay?"

He nodded. She walked away.

In the lobby she bumped into a tall man carrying a silver platter.

"Oh, excuse me- _Hannibal_?"

He smiled down at her. His plaid suit was freshly pressed. He looked like he'd been awake for several hours, which was odd. It wasn't yet six a.m.

"Hello, Alana. I take it you were visiting Will?"

"Yes, I was. You're...bringing him breakfast?"

"He always enjoyed my cooking. I know what he's been saying about me, and of course I know he doesn't mean it. He's very sick, Alana." Something about his voice was off.

"It appears so," she agreed. Why did she suddenly feel so uncomfortable? Had the things Will said gotten to her?

"Anyway, the food is a peace offering. This is an unfortunate situation, but I'd hate to lose Will's friendship over it."

"Of course," she said. "Well, my class starts soon. It was nice seeing you, Hannibal."

"And you as well. If you don't might me pointing out, you haven't been over for dinner in a while. I'd be happy to have you anytime."

"I'd like that," she said, even though she wasn't so sure she would.

She walked briskly to her car, unable to shake the feeling that Hannibal's gaze lingered on her.


End file.
